A Path to Psychological Freedom
Malcolm Huxter
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Dukkha
often translates as "suffering", but it also means the quality of
unsatisfactoriness and uncertainty related to change. According to
Buddhists all the
conditional states of life are dukkha. The alleviation or
elimination of dukkha or the
path to freedom is a very personal path which may include western
psychotherapies and or
spiritual practices. Generally, Western psychotherapies are
directed at strengthening the
sense of self while spiritual practices are directed at self
transcendence. Present
centred awareness may be one practice which engenders both self
fortifying and self
transcending aspects and helps facilitate freedom from dukkha.
Present centred awareness
is a practice and a technique where practitioners are present and
aware for the experience
of life. Present centred awareness has been used as a self
regulatory mechanism and a self
discovery process. Present centred awareness may facilitate peak
experiences which can
transform habitually detrimental tendencies. Present centred
awareness may also be
instrumental in resolving inner and interpersonal conflict and
engendering love or
nonjudgemental acceptance. Moreover, present centred awareness may
diminish dukkha because
it helps align ones perception of one's self in accordance with
the way things are or the
truth. According to Buddhists the nature of the self is empty and
insight into its
emptiness, with present centred awareness, is intrinsically
liberating.
Introduction
About
fifteen years ago a Buddhist monk I met claimed that life for most
people was dukkha.
Dukkha, he explained, was a word from an ancient Indian language
called Pali. He said that
dukkha was roughly translated as suffering. However, this
translation was, he claimed,
inadequate because dukkha also signified the subtle qualities of
unsatisfactoriness and
uncertainty connected with change in life (Khantipalo, 1976). When
I heard the word
explained, I started to realise that my life and the lives of most
beings around me, were
characterised by dukkha. It was further indicated, however, that
it was possible to seek a
path to freedom (from dukkha) and hence out of suffering. The end
result of this spiritual
path is believed to be a total liberation which, ultimately, can
only be directly
experienced and any general conceptual descriptions deem
inadequate and meaningless
(Rahula, 1959). The alleviation of dukkha and the path to freedom
are offered by numerous
salvational philosophies and practices. On the secular side of the
picture, Western
psychotherapies offer relief from some aspects of psychological
distress by strengthening
the sense of selfhood with whom we identify our individuality.
Spiritual paths, on the
other hand, are directed at liberation by developing a level of
experience beyond that
which is centred on a personal self. Some of these (liberating)
paths appear to take
aspirants in opposite directions, but some authors have attempted
to reconcile this
contradiction by offering paradigms which include both 'self
fortifying' and 'self
transcending' methodologies which, together, can eventually lead
the practitioner to
freedom (eg Wilber, 1981).
My
own path towards liberation is characterised by a practice in
which I try to attend to and
live my direct moment to moment experience of life. This method,
which I have adopted as
my spiritual path, is called present centred awareness. In my
personal experience, present
centred awareness has been a way to heal the psychic wounds which I
have accrued during
this life (and perhaps others). Thus, present centred awareness
can be powerful
pychotherapeutic device. In addition, present centred awareness is
considered to be
intrinsically liberating because it engenders, in the
practitioner, an insight into
'truth'. In the sections which follow, this essay will examine, in
detail, the nature of
the human existential bind (dukkha) and the path to psychological
and spiritual liberation
through the practice of present centred awareness.
Dukkha
According
to Buddhist thought dukkha, which usually means suffering, is the
truth of existence.
However, many Pali scholars claim that the word often has been
misinterpreted and
misunderstood (Rahula, 1959).Though dukkha may mean suffering (as
it is normally
conceived) a more precise translation of dukkha is
"unsatisfactoriness" (Rahula,
1959). Dukkha can properly be understood in three ways: 1) dukkha
as ordinary suffering,
2) dukkha as produced by change, and 3) dukkha as a characteristic
of being someone in a
'conditioned state' (Rahula, 1959; Sole-Leris, 1986). The first
type of dukkha encompasses
the pain, grief, lamentation and difficulties associated with old
age, sickness and death.
Also included in this first category is the inevitable fact that
individuals often get
what they do not want, do not get what they want, and soon are
parted from what they like.
This first type of dukkha also includes mental distress such as
confusion, anguish, worry,
fear, anxiety, depression, loneliness, and alienation (Rahula,
1959). The second type of
dukkha involves the paradox of living in happy and pleasant states
and yet knowing these
beautiful moments are transient and must inevitably change and
disappear. The last type of
dukkha involves the suffering engendered from clinging to the
belief that transitory
manifestations of sensations, thoughts, feelings and emotions, are
a solid and concrete
self which is usually labelled, by each of, us as "I", "mine", or
"myself" (Rahula, 1959). This last type of dukkha is, perhaps, the
most
difficult to comprehend, but it will be clarified later in this
essay. According to the
classical Buddhist texts, absolute freedom from dukkha only can be
found in Nibbana (or
Nirvana) which is an unconditional state beyond causal existence
and hence suffering
(Nanamoli, 1978). Conditional states, on the other hand, are
characterised by dukkha
(Rahula, 1959).
Conditioned States and
the Wheel of Birth and Death
The
types of conditioned states are infinite. It is believed in
Buddhist thought that every
being creates his/her own reality, and the various dimensions of
individual realities
cross over to form a given realm or world. Western religions
encompass the possibilities
of experiential reality as falling within the tripartite concept
of heaven, hell, and a
mediating earthly plane. Like these other religions, Buddhist
cosmology also has several
realms of existence. In Buddhist thought, however, there are 31
such levels
(Tambiah,1970). Though Buddhist texts have classic descriptions of
these realms as places
where beings abide (Kapleau,1971), they are often understood as
states of mind (Trungpa,
1973). As states of mind the realms can be understood as part of
one's own personal
experience and/or as part of the experience of those who live
around us. The various
realms of existence in Buddhist cosmology can be divided into six
basic categories: 1) the
hell realms, 2) the hungry ghost realms, 3) the animal realms, 4)
the human realms, 5) the
heaven realms, and 6) the demon or asura (jealous god) realms
(Tamaiah, 1970).
The Hell Realms
Many
people are unhappy. Angrily or desperately they struggle with
existence yet find no
relief. They may feel trapped, isolated and lonely. There is no
one to trust as the world
seems violent, miserable and frightening. Contracted defensively,
they experience hell. In
these realms one is collapsed into a total paranoia and
defensiveness. Here we find
insanity, despair and a sense that all is hopeless and lost. It is
truly a hell on earth
into which some of us slip occasionally, but some, less fortunate,
become hopelessly
enmeshed for life as the incurably insane.
The Ghost Realms
The
preta or hungry ghost realm is experienced as a state of intense
and insatiable desire,
frustration and dissatisfaction. Feeling ever empty and lacking,
pretas constantly search
for something or someone to fill their hungry space. Pretas are
never gratified. No matter
how much they try, gratification is always just beyond reach. In
Buddhist cosmology pretas
are considered to be in a realm of misery (Tambiah, 1970). When
caught in these
experiential realms we seek food, sex, power, glory, and money
with unending appetite but,
nothing can satisfy.
The Animal Realms
From
the Buddhist point of view, the animal realm is yet another realm
of misery. However,
those in animal realms are not cognisant of their misery because
the animal realm is
characterised by stupidity. Actions are performed without
discriminating wisdom and
dominated by sensual desires and hedonistic needs. Those in animal
consciousness do not
think intelligently and their lives are governed by conditioning,
indoctrination and
seeking personal gratification.
The Human Realm
The
human realm is considered to be a realm of relative advantage. As a
human, one has the
ability to both seek and enjoy pleasure and happiness. However,
the human experience is
equally grounded in difficulty, and hardship. Human existence
swings between pain and
pleasure, loss and gain, and praise and blame. Nevertheless, the
emotions are not too
extreme and those with human consciousness have the ability and
mental space to ponder
their existence. The human realm is therefore one of
discriminating intelligence and is
characterised by the ability to choose. This realm is a
particularly useful realm to seek
liberation because the human realm is a realm where one can see a
balanced view of
existence (Trungpa, 1973).
The Heaven Realms
Heaven
states of consciousness, are expanded states of consciousness
where one feels joyous,
happy, and blissful all the time. Relationships are always
fulfilling and meaningful. No
one fights and life is pleasure. Projects are successful and every
thing is wonderful and
beautiful. These states of consciousness are also characterised by
moments of
transcendental well being and peace. It is like we have made it,
we have arrived and won
the prize (Trungpa,1973).
The Jealous God Realms
The
final possibility of conscious experiential reality is that of
becoming one of the asuras
or jealous Gods (Trungpa, 1973). Knowing that heaven is possible,
asuras jealously
struggle up the ladder to gain access to the divine state,
alternatively, like a fallen
angel, having tasted the bliss and joy of heaven, they want it to
continue and strive to
regain the lost prize. This realm is different from the preta
realms in that the jealous
Gods have power. Like some politicians or mega-millionaires they
claw their way to the top
and, ever vigilant, they are protective of what they have and
struggle for yet more.
Asuras have a consciousness that is obsessed with power and the
need for engrandisement
(Trungpa,1973).
The
realms and the psychological states they represent are constantly
changing. Unlike the
Judeo-Christian dogma, neither heaven nor hell can last for ever
and the nature of
conditioned experience is ultimately always change. Thus, life has
the potential for
cyclic fluctuation between and within the realms of experiential
reality. Some days we may
be in heaven while other days feel like hell. The arising and
passing of experience,
moment to moment or life time to life time, is what Buddhists call
the wheel of birth and
death or samsara (Trungpa, 1976). Being enchanted by samsara is
dukkha.
Enchantment
Possibly
one of the most subtle forms of psychological suffering is what
Roy-King (1986) calls
enchantment. The word enchantment has positive connotations in
modern speech, however, as
in the world of folktales: "to be enchanted is to be lured to
one's death by
seductive voices, to be turned to stone, to be obsessed (as Sinbad
was) with journeys to
impossible places, to be asleep or forgetful." (Roy-King, 1986
p211) To be enchanted
is, therefore, to become intoxicated with the realities we create
and to believe that
these realities will last forever. Buddhists consider that the
conditioned states of the
wheel of birth and death are essentially unsatisfactory, or
dukkha, because nothing lasts
(Sumedho, 1983). Even at the most refined levels of consciousness,
when our lives have no
anxiety, worry, fear or gross distress, there still may be a
quality of uncertainty. This
uncertainty is an awareness that even if we had every thing that
we could ever want, it is
still not lasting. Dukkha may be gross and obvious or dukkha may
be subtle. Regardless of
whether it is gross or subtle it is the awareness of dukkha that
motivates individuals to
seek the path to freedom (Sumedho, 1983).
The Path to Freedom
When
individuals become aware of their dukkha they either avoid it with
distractions thereby
perpetuating its manifestation (such as with drugs and alcohol) or
they attempt to resolve
it in a healthy manner. Psychotherapy and spiritual practices are
two ways individuals may
attempt to resolve the manifestations of dukkha constructively.
Psychotherapy is
essentially a process designed to alleviate mental distress by
initiating psychological
change in a manner which is both personally meaningful and
socially constructive (Muzika,
1990). Most Western psychotherapies are directed at the
personality and usually work at
strengthening the self to make it more able to bear pain and to
experience pleasure
(Muzika, 1990). Psycho-spiritual teachings and movements (both
East and West), on the
other hand, are directed at self transcendence. The term
transcendence may have a number
of meanings, but in current psychological paradigms the meaning of
transcendence is
transpersonal in the sense that it is a development or a
transition "to a level of
experience beyond that centred in the ego or the personal self"
(Washburn, 1990,
p85). Many of the major world religions consider transcendence to
be the primary path to
liberation. However, the interpretation of transcendence varies.
For example, in the
spiritual paths found in Christianity the concept of salvation is
synonymous with freedom.
With salvation the soul, having confronted it's sins and having
repented, is saved and
reunites (in intimate relationship) with God (Washburn, 1990).
This process, Washburn
(1990) compares to the Jungian notion of regression and final
integration with the
archetype Self. The ego, being no longer separate from god, feels
ultimate security,
psychic wholeness and freedom from distress. Within Hinduism, the
self has two aspects:
Jiva, the individual soul, and Atman, it's universal form. Thus,
freedom from dukkha is
the discovery of the soul's universal aspect (Muzika, 1990). In
the Hindu tradition,
spiritual development is a progressive letting go of various
levels of the self, (such as
the physical level, the sensory mind and the intuitive intellect)
until one finally
achieves a transcendental absolute oneness with Atman in "blissful
undifferentiated
illumination" (Washburn, 1990, p87). Buddhism, on the other hand,
teaches that
suffering is conditional on the belief in an abiding, existent
self. Dukkha arises because
of attachment, aversion and ignorance (to and of that self) and is
a cyclic reaction
energised by desire. With Buddhism the path to freedom is one of
insight into the nature
of the conditioning forces. With wisdom, the attachment to
conditions is severed and
Nibbana, as ultimate freedom, is realised (Sole-Leris,1986).
At
a superficial level, some of the paths designed to alleviate
dukkha may seem
contradictory. For example, Western psychotherapies are generally
directed at
strengthening the self while Eastern spiritual paths are concerned
with its deconstruction
(Wilber, 1981). Wilber attempts to reconcile these contradictions
by offering a paradigm
which includes both self fortifying and self transcending
functions in the path to
liberation. Wilber considers liberation to be an egoless state of
mystical union with the
universe that is beyond all division and duality. This state,
called 'unity consciousness'
he claims has no boundaries or limitations and is ultimate
freedom. Suffering, on the
other hand, he argues, results as the deluded mind creates self
imposed boundaries and
fantasy divisions between the 'self' and 'other'. The more
contracted these existential
boundaries are, the greater the alienation and subsequent
suffering one experiences
(Wilber, 1981).
Wilber
(1981) claims that development towards "unity consciousness"
occurs in several
stages. Summarised, these stages are the prepersonal, personal,
and transpersonal. Like
other stage development paradigms (such as those of Kolberg, Freud
and Piaget in Shaffer,
1985), each stage has its problems which must be resolved before
an individual can move
successfully on to the next (Muzika, 1990). Thus, Wilber (1981)
claims that the different
directions emphasised by the various liberation techniques and
practices may be
appropriate for different stages of development. At the
prepersonal level, for example, in
which individuals may be suffering from hurt, despair,
worthlessness and loss, therapies
such as simple counselling and basic psychoanalysis may be useful.
At the personal level,
where individuals need direction and sense of meaning, Gestalt or
Existential therapies
may prove to be the appropriate vehicles. However, it is only when
the ego is strong and
has established a strong sense of meaning, argues Engler and
Wilber (1986 in Muzika,
1990), that it is capable of dealing with the transpersonal
processes that may be
encountered in spiritual practices such as meditation. According
to Engler "You have
to be somebody before you can be nobody" (1986 cited in Epstein,
1990, p18). A
perennial question regarding reality is: What is the truth and
which path does one follow
to find it and freedom? Some base their choice on emotional
attractiveness, while others
use intellectual reasoning to make their decision. Therefore,
confidence in a path or a
"faith" can be fuelled by emotional energy or by intellectual
reasoning. Both
kinds of faith are important and valuable in the process. However,
it is the faith arising
from our own personal experience of the truth which has the most
impact on the direction
one takes (Goldstein, 1976).I have confidence in the Buddha's
teachings. This
"faith" is fuelled by both emotional attraction and intellectual
reasoning.
However, more than these two driving factors is the power of my
personal experience. I do
not pretend to ultimately understand the unconditioned or Nibbana,
but, personal
experience of the conditioned states has confirmed for me much of
what the Buddha has
taught. On his dying bed the Buddha has been quoted as saying to
Ananda, his personal
servant: "Be lamps unto yourselves. Be refuges to yourselves. Take
yourselves to no
external refuge. Look not for refuge in anyone beside yourselves.
And, those Ananda, who
either now or after I am dead, shall be a lamp unto themselves,
shall betake themselves to
no refuge, but holding fast to the truth as their lamp, holding
fast to the truth as their
refuge, shall not look for refuge to anyone beside themselves, it
is they who shall reach
to the very topmost height." (Goldstein, 1976, p116). When I
follow this advice and
look to myself for the truth and the path, I realise that it only
can be known in the
context of present moment experience. "Yesterday is a memory.
Tomorrow the unknown.
Now is the knowing" (Sumedho, 1983). Thus, having both faith and
experience in the
reality of the moment as the truth and the path, I have come to
believe that present
centred awareness is an important way to heal a distressed psyche
and facilitate freedom
from dukkha.
Present Centred
Awareness
It
has been argued that being in the moment may bean important factor
in the development of
emotional well-being (Roy-King, 1986). Being aware and present
centred may be one simple
technique which has self fortifying (Wilber's prepersonal), self
clarifying (Wilber's
personal) and self transcending (Wilber's transpersonal)
functions. Present centred
awareness is the act of being fully aware of and attending to
experience. The focus of
this awareness may be directed introspectively towards the 'self'
or, on the other hand,
it may be directed at the world around us. However, as life is
experienced through the
mechanisms of our humanness (the senses, thoughts, and emotions),
present centred
awareness is usually directed at aspects of the experiencing
'self'. Present centred
awareness has come to subsume a number of other terms such as;
bare attention (Goldstein,
1976), listening to oneself (Rogers, 1961), living in the moment
(Perls, 1970) or just
being here now (Dass, 1972). Present centred awareness has been
utilised in many
psychotherapies and is central to Gestalt therapy as well as
Buddhist spiritual practice.
All of these psychological approaches offer numerous techniques
which help to centre a
person's awareness on the present. However, it is Buddhism which
offers the clearest
explanation of the nature of present centred awareness and the
most complete description
of how it may be successfully practiced.
In
the Buddhist Theravadin schools (where I have had my most
comprehensive experience),
present centred awareness is referred to as 'satipatthana' or,
simply, mindfulness
(Goleman, 1975). The word satipatthana has its origins in Pali
which was spoken by Gotauma
Buddha (Nanamoli, 1978). "Sati" means awareness and "patthana"
means
keeping present (Nyanapondika Thera, 1962). Satipatthana is "The
accurate, continuous
registering at the conscious level of all events occurring in the
six sensory modes:
seeing, hearing, touching, smelling and thinking, without
qualitative judgment,
evaluation, mental comment or behavioural act." (Deatherage, 1982,
p 19) Similarly
"Bare attention means observing things as they are without
choosing, without
comparing, without evaluating, without laying our projections and
expectations on to what
is happening, initiating instead a choiceless and non-interfering
awareness."
(Goldstein, 1976, p20) Satipatthana is a way of being and a
meditation practice. The role
of satipatthana is to clearly perceive, in an objective (but not
disassociated) manner,
the arising and passing of all conditions of mind and body
(Nyanapondika Thera, 1962). As
a practice its aim is to gain insight into the nature of the self,
inner peace and
psychological freedom. The theme behind mindfulness is to honestly
relate with what ever
arises as it arises.
In
traditional Buddhist teachings there are four foundations or areas
of mindfulness. These
are mindfulness of body, feelings, mind states and mind objects
(Nyanapodika Thera, 1962).
Mindfulness of body includes, among other aspects, being aware of
postures, somatic
sensations and the breath. Mindfulness of feelings is not regarded
as mindfulness of the
emotions as such, but more being attentive to the qualities of
pleasantness,
unpleasantness and neutrality which arise in the mind with
relationship to physical
sensations or mental processes. Mindfulness of feelings is
considered as important because
"feelings" are primary factors in conditioning clinging
(attachment) and
condemnation (aversion), two root causes of suffering (dukkha)
(Goldstein, 1976).
Mindfulness
of mind states refers to being aware of the states of mind that
may colour the mind such
as a distracted mind, an angry mind, a happy mind, a guilty mind
and so on. Mindfulness of
mental objects refers to being aware of the content of mind such
as thoughts, and, in
addition, being aware of how they condition both physical and
mental processes
(Nyanapondika Thera, 1962). As a meditation practice, a
practitioner of satipatthana
chooses a primary object of attention and focuses upon that
object. Theravadin Buddhist
meditation teachers usually recommend choosing primary objects of
meditation that are
physical in nature. They recommend physical objects, such as
sensations or sounds, because
they are tangible, easy to focus on, and less illusive than mental
objects
(Nyanasamvara,1974).It should be noted, however, that meditation
teachers claim that all
objects of self, physical or mental, are essentially similar in
nature. Thus, if insight
is gained into one object of self, then insight is gained into
them all. Primary objects
of satipatthana meditation vary, but one of the most commonly used
objects is that of the
breath. As one breaths, attention may be directed to sensations at
the tip of the nose or
at the abdomen as it rises and falls (Nyanasamvara,1974). As a
meditation practice
satipatthana is not limited to sitting in a meditation posture,
but can carry over into
other activities, such as walking. In walking meditation the prime
object of attention may
be the sensations in the legs, or the general posture of walking.
Ideally,
when one meditates, one's attention remains with the primary
object. In reality, though,
many people's minds do not stay focussed on the primary object.
There may be, for example,
thoughts of the past or future, distracting aches and pains,
sounds and so on. When the
mind becomes distracted from the primary object the distraction is
acknowledged and the
meditator returns his or her attention to the object. If the
distraction becomes
overwhelming or predominant, this "distraction" may then become
the object of
meditation and of non-intellectual investigation. Like changing
gears on a car one may
shift from object to object and from mindfulness of body to
mindfulness of mind states,
feelings or mental objects. For example, if a jackhammer started
up outside one's
meditation room, the vibrations of the sound (a physical object)
could become the object
of meditation (mindfulness of physical objects or body). One could
also choose to be
attentive to the unpleasantness of the sounds (mindfulness of
feelings) or the thoughts
that arise in regard to the sounds (mindfulness of mind objects).
Alternatively, one could
direct attention to the quality of anger that may arisen
(mindfulness of mind states)
(Nyanapondika Thera, 1962).
Currently,
Buddhist meditation retreats are gaining popularity in the West
(Goldstein, 1976). The
activity in these retreats is very different from one's normal
life style and the session
may last anywhere from weekend to months. On these retreats, much
time is spent sitting in
meditation posture while attempting to focus upon a primary object
such as the breath. At
the end of a sitting period one arises and does something else
such as eating or walking.
As the retreat progresses, the delineating line between meditation
and non-meditation
dissolve, so no matter what one is doing, mindfulness monitors.
Moment after moment,
attention is drawn to whatever is happening in that moment and to
whatever one is doing
which then becomes the primary object of meditation. Thus, when
one brushes one's teeth,
attention is directed to teeth brushing and (perhaps) the way the
brush feels on one's
gums, or the jerking action of the arms. When one eats, one eats
with mindfulness of
tastes and/or chewing actions or mindfulness of thoughts related
to eating. When one
visits the toilet, one is aware and present for the process of
defecating and so on.
Meditation
retreats and the practice of satipatthana are not always easy. It
must be emphasised that
meditation retreats, for many people, are often characterised by
periods of losing
mindfulness and becoming enmeshed and lost in thought.
Nevertheless, for most
practitioners, it becomes clear that the process of mindfulness is
in itself enlightening.
That is, it illumines one's situation and lightens one's emotional
burden or mental
distress. As time passes, practitioners may realise that
satipatthana can be practiced
anywhere at any time. "In one sense mindfulness refers to a clear,
lucid, quality of
awareness to the everyday experiences of life." (Tart, 1990, p83).
For
many, therefore, present centred awareness may become a way of
being with life and dealing
with day to day activities. For example, Thich Nhat Hanh, a well
known Vietnamese Buddhist
monk, once wrote "when washing the dishes one should only be
washing the dishes,
which means that while] washing the dishes one should be
completely aware that one is
washing the dishes. The fact that I am standing here washing these
bowls is a wondrous
reality. I'm being completely myself" (Hanh, 1975, p3).
Being
present centred and aware can generate a sense of freedom and
alleviate dukkha in a number
of ways. For example, present centred awareness can be used as a
'therapy' which helps us
deal with distressing 'gross' forms of emotional suffering such as
anxiety, depression,
obsessions and fear. Being present centred may facilitate peak
experiences, which can
alter one's sense of reality thereby causing a radical change in
perspective and, hence,
new awareness which may have a healing effect.
Present
centred awareness also may help us to deal with inner as well as
interpersonal conflicts.
However, more than any of the above change processes which may
obviate detrimental life
habits, present centred awareness is intrinsically liberating
because it engenders a
radical and awakening alignment in consciousness. Present centred
awareness is
intrinsically liberating because it draws one's consciousness into
accord with the way
things are and, thus, in line with the most basic existential
truth.
"The
prescription of living in the now is the consequence of the fact
that we are living in the
now; this is something that the sane person knows, but the
neurotic does not realise while
enmeshed in a dreamlike pseudo-existence." (Naranjo, 1970, p67).
Present
centred awareness as a prescription for life is a means to an end,
where the end is the
means. The different ways present centred awareness may facilitate
a sense of freedom work
in essentially similar ways. However, to clarify and elaborate the
liberating nature of
present centred awareness, four angles will be delineated in the
reference to my personal
experience.
Present Centred
Awareness as a 'Therapy'
In
our efforts to manifest self-actualisation, Rogers describes the
goal of life as
"discovering the self one truly is" by "learning to listen to
oneself... to
experience what is going on within oneself" (Rogers, 1961, p169).
Self awareness is
thought to increase a person's knowledge about his/her behaviour
and "the more one
knows about their behaviour the more likely he/she is in a
position to do something about
it" (Pyke and Sanborn, 1975 cited in Gibbons et al. 1985, p662).
Present
centred awareness is, therefore, a therapeutic tool which is used
in a number of
psychotherapeutic programs. It can serve both as a self regulation
mechanism and as a
process of self discovery. For example, Psychoanalytic processes
use the technique of
'free association' as a means of increasing awareness and
uncovering repressed memories
and emotions. Like satipatthana, Freud's free association
technique increases attention to
the processes and content of mind, without censorship and
criticism of what arises
(Speeth, 1982). Free association is thought to be therapeutic
because it helps resolve the
debilitating effects of repressed traumas by bringing them into
the light of awareness
thereby freeing the mind from restrictions imposed by
self-suppression (Muzika, 1990).
With
Gestalt therapy, awareness is directed at how an individual
thinks, feels, moves, and
interacts in a present moment context (Naranjo, 1970). Some
techniques used with Gestalt
therapy involve dialogue between a therapist and a client. With
dialogue, the therapist
constantly reminds the client to relate to the present moment and
issues which may have
normally been avoided are explored. The expression of internal
states acts as a tool to
centre and clarify the client's experience while simultaneously
providing a witness which
enhances the attention and meaningfulness of the experience
(Naranjo, 1970). Other Gestalt
processes involve sensory awareness processes. Physical sensations
that are normally
avoided are explored and this can awaken a series of unresolved
memories and traumas. Once
recovered, these issues are explored, accepted and reintegrated
into the client's life.
Using the process of being brought back into the now, an
individual is empowered to
discover how he/she blocks and interrupts his/her functioning
(Kepner and Brien,1970). The
insights gained from increased awareness are thought to be
sufficient to alleviate
numerous psychological problems including anxiety (Davison and
Neale, 1982).
Some
therapists have used traditional Buddhist satipatthana tools in
clinical situations to
deal with manifestations of anxiety depression and obsessive
behaviour (eg Wortz, 1982;
Deatherage, 1982). One traditional method which has been used to
enhance the effect of
satipatthana is that of labelling an object of attention or
mindfulness with a name
(Nyanapondika, 1962). Like the expression of feelings and thoughts
used in Gestalt
therapy, 'noting' serves to concentrate the mind as well as
clarify and objectify the
condition. For example, attention to the rising and falling in the
abdomen while breathing
can be labelled "rising, falling", thoughts of the past can be
labelled
"remembering", the future, "planning". Simple emotional tendencies
can
be labelled appropriately such as "anger", "worrying",
"fear", sadness" etc. Actions also can be labelled accordingly
such as
"brushing" for brushing one's teeth, "pissing" for urinating etc.
Another satipatthana tool which can be developed is what
Deatherage (1982) calls "the
watcher self". "The watcher self can see the remembering of some
painful event
and label it objectively without becoming involved in its
melodrama. The watcher can
therefore put psychological distance between the 'me' who
experiences the painful event
and the 'me' who is presently remembering it. "(Deatherage, 1982,
p22) The
"watcher self" is not used to strengthen the self concept but:
"The watcher
self is used only as a tool for grounding some of the patient's
mental energy in the
present, providing a temporary, psychological stable centre for
them to operate from and
providing a perspective from which their own psychological
functioning can be objectively
observed." (Deatherage, 1982, p25).
Both
"noting" and developing the "watcher self" can be very useful. If
one
can say to oneself, for example, "anger" when one is experiencing
rage, then the
"noting" allows the space to choose one's reactions instead being
dominated by
blind action. This space which noting and satipatthana promote can
be therapeutic. In one
case study, a divorced woman who was having bouts of depression,
anxiety and unwanted
memories of her ex-husband's bizarre sexual demands, was trained
to label the thoughts as
"remembering, remembering". Within a few days she could see the
causal
relationship between the thoughts and the anxiety and depression
which proved to be quite
therapeutic (Deatherage, 1982). Another woman, who was
hospitalised for manic-depression
and schizophrenia, was instructed to watch the second hand of a
clock and, when her mind
went off the clock, to name the distraction. She soon realised
that most of her
distractions were related to the past. She was then instructed to
label them
"remembering, remembering". With this technique "she learned to
identify
herself with the objective watcher of her disturbed thoughts
instead of the depressed
thinker" (Deatherage, 1982, p24). She was able to gain insight
into the nature of her
illness from this process and it was not long before she was
released from hospital.
Another woman who was hospitalised for anxiety, depression and
inability to function
adequately, rebelled against any suggestion of introspection, and
owing to the fact that
she was a Mormon the word "Buddhist" or "meditation" was not
mentioned. As the therapists interacted with her it became evident
that much of her day
was spent fantasising and imagining to avoid the anxiety of her
life. The habit of
fantasising was discussed with her and she was then was asked to
undertake a
"psychological procedure". To her surprise she was asked to bake a
cake.
However, she had to do it extremely mindfully with minute
attention to every detail. When
her persistent fantasies would arise, she was instructed to just
observe them. After a
time she found that she could intentionally return to the present
moment and so function
more adequately. With mindfulness and other therapy she eventually
gained insight into her
anxiety and depression and was released from hospital
(Deatherage, 1982).
I
have been using meditation practices for nearly fifteen years, but
began using
satipatthana meditation techniques about 7 years ago. I have
attended numerous meditation
retreats and have noticed a "therapeutic" effect of mindfulness in
these
retreats and in my daily life. When I first started employing the
satipatthana methods, I
began experiencing a pain in my heart area. At times it would feel
as if a knife had been
inserted and was being twisted. At other times, it just ached.
When I meditated the pains
would intensify and distract me from the primary object of the
meditation, so one day I
decided to make the pain the object of my meditation. Although the
pain was dominant in my
consciousness, I found that when I tried to direct attention to
the sensation my focus
would 'deflect'. It was as if my mind wanted to avoid touching
that area. I experimented
with methods which would enhance exploration and slowly I learned
that if I could generate
a quality of total acceptance and gentle love, then the pain would
allow my mind inside.
As
I ventured inside the pain, I was flooded with memories. I
discovered feelings of
rejection, fear and loneliness which went far back into my
childhood. These feelings also
related to my adult life and as I meditated images of past
interactions and associated
emotional feelings of inadequacy and frustration would emerge. The
images and feelings
arose concomitantly with the pain in my heart. The pains lasted on
and off for a period of
about two years. I meditated upon them whenever they arose, and
slowly I gained acceptance
of the pains and the past that they represented. Like the
integrative processes of Gestalt
therapy, I found that the more I could accept the pain, the more I
could accept myself as
a whole. This acceptance was also reflected in the way I
communicated with other people. I
could relate with less fear and more openness and honesty. In
addition, the pains became a
useful tool. Particularly, when I interacted with people, (such as
threatening
individuals) the heart pain served as a warning signal that
communication was difficult.
With the mindfulness training, I could be attentive to the
difficulty and allow myself to
be open to those individuals (and the pain) finding acceptance
rather than closing down
with resistance, rejection and fear. The mindfulness process
related to my heart area was
therapeutic and healing in many areas of my life. Slowly and
gradually the pains vanished.
Mindfulness
thus can open up and facilitate a resolution of undermining
influences in our lives. The
detached (but not disassociated) attitude of present centred
awareness also allows for a
space to occur between life's events and the ego's reactions to
those events, thus
preventing our lives from being overwhelmed by unwise obsessions
and actions. Mindfulness,
for example, can catch a thought of anger before that anger is
converted into a fist in
someone's face or it can catch a worrying thought before the
thought explodes into full
blown anxiety. The regular practice of present centred awareness,
can gradually alter
habitual and crippling reactions to disturbing thoughts and
feelings. However, another
even more potent and rapid method for effecting change in habitual
tendencies and
promoting well-being is to experience a radical alteration of
consciousness or a peak
experience.
Peak Experiences
A
moment is only a short segment of time, yet in moments the human
experience of reality can
be deepened, challenged, explored and transformed (Roy-King,
1986). Carlos Casteneda, is
an American writer who has authored a series of books about
experiences he supposedly had
with a Mexican shaman named Don Juan Matus. Over the course of
their many discussions, Don
Juan often attempted to get Carlos to attend more fully to the
moment. He believed that
this type of attention had in it great power to transform one's
experiential world.
"Do you know a moment can be an eternity?....This is not a riddle
its a fact, but
only when you mount that moment and use it to take the totality of
yourself forever in any
direction" (Casteneda, 1974,p8).
Being
in the moment can facilitate what have been called 'peak
experiences' and facilitate the
opening of realities previously unexplored. Maslow (1968)
described peak experiences as
moments of intense joy and fulfilment that may occur when
individuals are present for
life. A mystical experience is one type of peak experience
(Maslow, 1968). Mystical
experiences may occur after intense spiritual practices,
encounters with death, or
spontaneously when a persons attention is focused, in the present
(Happold, 1963; Grey,
1985; Goleman, 1975). The mystical experience is a subjective
phenomenon which is not
susceptible to scientific scrutiny or verification. Despite
materialistic scepticism and
explanation, the mystical experience is very real to those who
perceive them (Grey, 1985).
According to Happold (1963) mystical states are beyond description
by discursive
intellect. They are states of knowing that have elements such as
'timelessness', 'peace',
and 'oneness with the universe' which create a feeling that the
phenomenal ego is
dissolved into some greater entity or presence. Gopi Krishna, in
reference to his mystical
experience described "sensation of light....an overwhelming sense
of wonder and
awe.... unshakeable conviction of the reality of the
situation...an encounter with an
inexpressible all knowing intelligence of an omniscient divine
being... love and
adoration." (Grey, 1985, p149) Another description is that of a
school boy who
spontaneously experienced a "timeless moment" Suddenly and without
warning,
something invisible seemed to be drawn across the sky,
transforming the world about me
into a kind of tent of concentrated and enchanted significance.
What was merely an outside
became an inside. The objective was somehow transformed into a
completely subjective fact,
which was experienced as 'mine', but on another level the word had
no meaning; for 'I' was
no longer the familiar ego." (Happold, 1963, p 130)
Peak
experiences have numerous dimensions, and manifestations. They can
be cosmic shifts in
consciousness (such as the mystic variety) or they can be less
spectacular moments of
happiness and fulfilment (such as falling in love, watching a new
born child, moments of
intellectual insights, or moments of athletic achievement). Maslow
(1968) claimed that
these experiences were therapeutic. They could alter a person's
view of himself and
others, and significantly alter the relationship with the world.
In addition, these
experiences are capable of releasing a person's energies for
greater creativity,
spontaneity, idiosyncrasy, and expressiveness. Maslow went on to
claim that some mystical
or oceanic experiences have been "so profound as to remove certain
neurotic symptoms
forever after" (Maslow, 1968, p101).
Of
the few studies related to the after effect of mystical
experiences, those concerning the
near death experience (NDE) are gaining increasing interest.
Numerous studies (according
to Ring, 1980; Grey, 1985; and Flynn, 1982) have indicated that
NDEs, which have mystical
elements have changed those who have experienced these states in a
number of ways:
"Experiencers resume life by living it more fully, loving more
openly and fearing
death less, if at all. Their life seems more grounded in a sense
of purpose and is more
consciously shaped by the spiritual values of Iove and
acceptance." (Ring, 1980,
p202)
After
conducting a survey on NDE experiences Flynn (1982) argued that
the effect of the mystical
states on moral consciousness and belief structures was profound.
He found that those who
had experienced the mystical states associated with NDEs were
likely to operate from a
high stage of moral development. Many of those who have
experienced mystical states have
been called saints (Happold,1963). Thus, peak experiences are not
only pleasant, they can
be profoundly transforming. They may uproot detrimental
conditioned responses that cause
suffering and awaken individuals to self actualising principles
(Maslow, 1968). It
appears, the more refined or transcendental the experience, the
stronger is its effect.
States
of concentration called 'Jhanas' can produce very refined states
of consciousness which
may contribute to the onset of a mystical experience (Goleman,
1975). Buddhist texts
(Buddhagosa, 1976) offer detailed taxonomies, organisation, and
general explanations of
how to achieve these states at will. Basically the greater the
level of concentration the
more refined is the experience. At initial levels of activation
(such as being in love),
the body feels light and expansive and the mind is happy. As the
states become more
refined there are feelings of bliss, rapture, followed by
consciousness of infinite space,
oneness with the universe, awareness of no-thing-ness and
eventually neither perception
nor non-perception culminating in feelings of indescribable peace
(Goleman, 1975).
Mystical
states form a major component of Wilber's (1981) notion of a path
to freedom and
"unity consciousness" which, according to him, is the ultimate
state of freedom.
Like Maslow (1968) Wilber (1981) argues that peak experiences of
this type have the power
to eliminate neurotic habits and tendencies and they may even
alter one's perception of
the world, the self and give a sense of incredible peace.
However,
peak experiences are still part of paradoxical life situation and
the wheel of birth and
death discussed earlier in this essay. The catch is, no matter how
sublime and subtle the
experience is, like heaven, peak experiences are impermanent.
Certain individuals can
encounter peak moments, benefit from them and then let them go.
Most however, like fallen
angels, strive for the continued experience of expanded states of
consciousness and this
can become a terrible trap. Meditation teachers caution of the
dangers of developing the
Jhanas because of their seductive power and deceptive nature (we
can easily believe we
have 'arrived' at ultimate liberation when, in fact, we are still
caught on the wheel). If
attachment is developed to an impermanent experience, then the
attachment may condition
wanting (like a Hungry Ghost) which eventually leads to misery
(Epstein, 1988).
Thus,
ironically, being present centred may facilitate peak experiences,
but if one's
mindfulness is not strong enough, attachment to the peak
experience can engender further
suffering. When I was twenty one years old, being aware of my
dukkha, I decided that the
most important thing to do in life was to "get" enlightened. Keen
and
enthusiastic to make "it" or die, I travelled to Thailand and was
ordained as a
Buddhist monk. At that stage I didn't know much about
satipatthana, but used a variety of
contemplation meditations to centre my mind. After a short period
of searching, I found a
meditation monastery in the forests of NE Thailand and stayed
there. The climate and
surroundings were harsh and there were no other English speaking
monks. Life was
difficult, yet I appreciated the rich spiritual life that being
ordained and living in a
Buddhist community offered. During my stay I contracted,
dysentery, malaria and then later
hepatitis, so the prospect of dying in the forests of NE Thailand
was no mere fantasy.
When
I contemplated what or who dies, my mind became peaceful,
consequently death contemplation
meditation became one of my primary practices. After about 15
months of intensive
practice, which was compounded by severe illness, my reality began
to break apart. My
world and the experience of myself began to alter radically.
Wherever I looked, I couldn't
find a "me" that died, and my ego seemed to be dissolved into
"something
greater". There were many different experiences of expanded
consciousness which
followed and they were characterised by a sense that "I" was just a
drop in the
ocean of the universe. Everything seemed as if it was a dream, but
the dream seemed more
"real" than anything I had ever encountered. Strange but "perfect"
events occurred as if they were following a divine plan. The "me" I
had always
identified as my essential self seemed of little consequence
within this new perspective
and everything appeared to be dominated by a very tangible
omniscient intelligence. All
"I" could do was surrender to it. This surrender was terrifying,
but, at the
same time it felt incredibly secure, spacious, peaceful and
liberating. For a period of
about 4 months my world was turned upside down, and my concepts of
reality and existence
were completely transformed.
For
reasons primarily related to health I eventually disrobed, I left
the order of monks and
returned to secular life. Two weeks later, as a result of a
complex set of circumstances,
beyond the scope of this paper to describe, I married a Thai
woman, returning to Australia
with her two months later. Having nowhere to live, we moved in
with my mother at
Turramurra, an upper middle-class suburb of Sydney. Within a month
my wife was pregnant.
The contrast between my expanded world of spiritual security and
spacious liberation and
my new married life was horrific and my world felt as though it
had come crashing down. I
felt completely trapped.
Back
in Australia, my freedom lost, I experienced great conflict. I
reminisced about my
experiences in Thailand, like flicking through postcards of a
wonderful holiday (holy
days). I suffered intense inner conflict over my role as a husband
and parent while
feeling great spiritual isolation in my new, materialistic
surroundings. I desperately
wanted to be back in Thailand and not where I was. My feelings of
misery continued for
quite some time. Eventually, I let go of my conflict and got on
with life as it presented
itself, but I had learned some important lessons. The most
important of these lessons was
that attachment to peak experiences can cause misery and suffering
as powerfully as these
experiences can give feelings of peace and joy.
The
Thailand experience had drastically altered my ,understanding of
life and the universe.
However, it was just an experience and, as an experience, it was a
just another
conditioned moment on the wheel of birth and death. The Buddha
taught that one of the
primary root causes of misery was attachment (Nanamoli, 1978).
Intellectually, I realised
that attachment may eventually lead to suffering, but habits are
strong and I still attach
myself to concepts, views and objects. It is difficult to sever
attachment. Nonetheless,
as I grow older, present centred awareness has become like a
refuge or home base.
Sometimes I wander from it, suffer, but eventually return. Life is
a constant process of
enchantment and letting go. When I experience conflict and the
dukkha of enchantment,
present centred awareness is my most important ally in dealing
with that conflict.
Present Centred
Awareness, Desire, Inner and Interpersonal Conflict and Peace.
Conflict
seems to arise when we feel that we should be somewhere else doing
something other than
what we are presently doing. Amongst other things, it is the
feeling that conditions or
circumstances 'should' be other than what they are and, in this
state of mind, the past
and future appear to be more in accordance with our wishes and
ideals. Conflict of this
type, whether inner or interpersonal, may be resolved with the
application of present
centred awareness. Rogers (1980) seemed to be referring to the use
of present centred
awareness in psychological healing when he described a process he
called becoming
"congruent". "By this I mean that when my experience of this
moment is
present in my awareness and when what is present in my awareness
is present in my
communications, then each of these three levels matches or is
congruent. At such moments I
am integrated or whole, I am completely in one piece." (Rogers,
1980, p15).
When
people desire something and that desire is not satisfied, distress
or conflict may arise.
Even the desire for peace and psychic freedom, though it may be
well motivated, is still
'desire' and therefore has the potential to give rise to conflict.
By being present for
the experience of life as it naturally arises, it is possible to
transcend the pull of
desire and the conflict or "discongruence" which desire may
create.
A
few years ago I attended a meditation retreat. The retreat was
held in silence, which
meant that there was no visual or verbal contact permitted amongst
participants. Some of
the yogis were old friends while others I had never met before.
For six weeks I slept in a
dorm, sat in a hall, ate and generally lived with 50 or more
people with whom there was no
normal communication. One day, as I was "sitting" in meditation,
my mind became
very quiet. There were no sounds in the hall and all I could hear
was the gentle rustle of
trees and the sweet sound of birds. The conditions were conducive,
and I experienced
peace. Part way through the session a person near me began to
wriggle. The sound drew my
attention, but it was not disturbing. Later he began to scratch
his head and I also could
hear him swallowing. My concentration was shattered and I felt
irritation arise, but at
that moment the end-of-session bell rang and we all got up.
As
the days continued, a similar scenario was repeated a number of
times. At these times his
repertoire would also include getting up in the middle of the
session to use the toilet
attached to the hall, flushing the cistern and then, returning to
his position in the
hall, noisily writing memoirs in a journal he had been keeping. As
my meditations became
more difficult I began to notice the person on the other side of
me as well. He was
breathing quite heavily and, though not previously noticed, the
rhythmic rushing of air
would distract me from my own breath which was the object focus of
my meditation. What
were previously very calm meditation sessions began to become
times of great agitation and
hatred.
My
concentration deteriorated and instead of observing my breath, the
sessions began by
neurotically waiting for the agitating sounds to begin. As their
vibration was detected,
uncontrollable fantasies would arise. In my mind's eye I would see
me violently stomping
on the culprit's journal and pen and strangling him while
simultaneously I could feel a
power growing in my arms, getting ready to stuff any available
cushion up my noisy
neighbour's nostrils. The thoughts would arise, and with great
aversion and clinging, I
would suffer. Feeling the conflict in my heart, my mind began to
bargain. One thought I
had was to write each of them a polite yet frank note: "Please
stop writing, it is
disturbing my peace." or "Do you mind not breathing, it is
distracting my
attention". For hours I would sit obsessively planning the how,
when, where, and what
of my potential notes. While my colleagues were either getting
enlightened or completing
the first draft of a best seller, I was entangled and enmeshed
with thought and conflict.
Naturally, I didn't strangle my neighbours, nor did I write them
any diplomatic messages.
I did, however, remember a talk given by a Thai meditation master.
He compared the
suffering of worldly beings to a dog with an itch on its back. If
the dog sits in the sun
it blames the sun. If it finds a shady tree it blames the tree. If
it jumps in the river
it blames the river. The itch he said was greed, ignorance and
hatred. He, like the
Buddha, claimed that only when these taints of mind are uprooted
will worldly beings find
resolutions to their conflicts, peace and freedom from suffering
(Chah, 1980, 1982).
I
suffered with my intense aversion for about 3-4 days. However, the
suffering came from my
own mind. Its cause was attachment to pleasant and peaceful mind
states, aversion to
unidealistic sounds, delusion about the way things should be and
ignorance about the way
they were. The peace I originally experienced was conditional upon
getting things to go
the way that I wanted them to. It became clear,(intellectually and
to some extent
experientially), that true peace is unconditional and, so, not
dependent upon changeable
objects of mind or body.
After
this insight I tried to become 'congruent' with the experience of
life as it presented
itself. I also tried to simplify and clarify the situation by
becoming aware of sounds as
just sounds, thoughts as just thoughts, aversion as just aversion
and so on. As
mindfulness sharpened the pain of desire, clinging and grasping
became more obvious with
letting go of my views, concepts and desires being the only
natural resolution of my
conflict and, thus, the way to peace and freedom.
Eventually
I allowed myself to look at my noisy neighbours. I could see that
they, just like me, had
conflict. Struggling with the mind's insanities, they also had
human difficulties, hopes,
desires and personal issues. As I looked, and my 'seeing' became
clearer, an overwhelming
quality of compassion and acceptance arose to take the place of my
anger and agitation.
In
most cases interpersonal conflict resolution is dependent on being
able to hear another's
point of view. Carl Rogers (1980) praised the ability some of us
have to really 'hear'
another. If the mind is defiled with "taints", then perception and
human
interaction may beclouded by one's judgments, expectations,
desires, aversions, hopes,
fears and limitations. "Most of the time, of course, I, like
everyone else, exhibit
some degree of incongruence. I have learned, however, that
realness, or genuineness, or
congruence -- whatever term you wish to give it -- is a
fundamental basis for the best
communication." (Rogers, 1980, p15)
According
to Rogers (1980) real 'hearing' is a subjective experience where
one listens without
judgement or expectation, but with an open mind. Words and the
concepts they create are
therefore not twisted to fit into a listener's ideals or desires
but are heard in an
honest and realistic manner. It was only when I could 'let go' of
my preconceived views,
judgements and aversion that I could really 'see' the yogis on
either side of me and thus
appreciate them with compassion. The ability to let go, however,
seemed to be dependent
upon present centred awareness, which allows for the recognition
of conditions and fosters
the wisdom to accept their reality. Conflict (inner or
interpersonal) is, of course,
painful, and we tend to want to avoid it. Yet, if we honestly feel
and perceive our
experience, whatever it is, in a present moment context, we may
find simple solutions.
To
feel lonely is to feel isolated, alienated and disconnected from
oneself and the rest of
the world. Love is a means of reconnecting with oneself and the
world around us, thus
becoming whole through the union which love engenders. Love is
normally considered as
liking something, however from a Buddhist perspective it is to
allow someone or something
to be without judgment or expectation with "a willingness to
listen and be
attentive" (Kittisaro, 1989, p155).
Intrinsic Freedom: No
Self No Problems
The
Buddha taught that there are two types of understanding. The first
type is the
understanding which comes from an accumulated memory and
intellectual grasp of concepts.
The second type is not dependent upon intellectual reasoning and
comes from a penetrative
(non-discursive) insight into the 'truth's or the way things are.
According to Buddhists
the root causes of dukkha are attachment, aversion, and ignorance
and the way to
liberation from dukkha is with morality, concentration and wisdom.
Morality is basically
the act of living life with integrity and doings those things
which do not harm oneself or
others. Concentration is the ability to centre and focus attention
while wisdom is a
penetrative insight into the way things are (Rahula, 1959).
Mindfulness can engender both
intrinsic knowledge and penetrative wisdom (Mahasi Sayadaw, 1983).
Morality,
concentration and wisdom are dependent upon one another. If one
leads a life that is
fragmented with acts that are harmful, it is difficult to focus
the mind. If one cannot
focus the mind, then it is difficult to see the truth. The more
one knows the truth, the
more likely one is able to live life with integrity. Like a forest
water pool, if the
muddy water is stirred up, one can not see its bottom, but if the
muddy water settles and
the water is clear, one can then observe and know what is on the
bottom of the pool.
Wisdom is the quality of clearly knowing the 'bottom of the pool',
that is, the truth of
existence (Chah, 1980; 1982; Kornfield & Breiter, 1985).
According to Buddhists the
truth of existence is that all conditioned phenomena are
impermanent and all phenomena are
insubstantial, empty or not self (Sole-Leris, 1986). The Buddhist
line of thought
considers that all psychological problems or dukkha, gross or
subtle, arise because of the
idea that there is belief in a solid, abiding self and the way to
liberation is to gain
insight into the empty nature of this deceptive self concept
(Rahula, 1959).
Egolessness
has become an accepted aspiration of many meditational
practitioners (Epstein, 1988). For
example, Wilber's (1981) "unity consciousness" is a state where
the
"self" boundaries expand infinitely and disappears and "identity,
as a
psychological concept, is achieved with the universe" (Koltko,
1989). Many
concentration practices, such as developing the Jhanas, can lead
to a loss of ego
boundaries. For example, at the seventh level of the formless
Jhanas there is an
"awareness of No-thing-ness" While at the eighth formless Jhana
there is
"Neither perception-nor non-perception" (Goleman, 1975, p215).
Egolessness is
commonly understood the sought after end state and so many
meditators attempt to abandon
the ego for an experience that is free from ego boundaries. This
is not unlike my attempt
to "get" enlightened when in Thailand. It seemed that if I could
surrender my
ego and experience "Egolessness", I finally would be free from
dukkha. A few
years back I began to realise that no-body "gets" enlightened and
there is
nothing to be abandoned. According to Epstein (1990) emptiness
does not meaning
nothingness or that nothing exists. Rather, it means that nothing
solid and lasting can be
found with the concept attributed to self. Consequently, the
freedom of emptiness is not
an experience or a state, but a relationship to conditions which
are in constant flux.
"Egolessness in not a state, it is only found in relationship to a
belief in concrete
existence." (p30). Epstein argues, that by an individual's attempt
to be rid of an
ego and to merge it with its surroundings or attain a "state" of
"egolessness", emptiness is rectified into yet another 'thing'.
The Buddhist
doctrine of emptiness certainly does not intend to replace one
'thing' (self) with another
(emptiness) (Epstein, 1990).
According
to Buddhists the "self" is made up of five basic elements or
clusters of
conditions (called kandas). The kandas are: matter (form),
feelings, mental formations
(such as thoughts etc), perceptions, and consciousness. The kandas
are constantly arising
and passing away in a manner similar to a motion picture which is
only a sequence of still
pictures manipulated in such a way as to create an illusion of
life (Rahula, 1959). The
usual self- concept is the result of bringing the kandas together
into an illusively solid
entity and calling them "I" "mine" and "myself".
When
I ordained as a monk in Thailand my head was shaved. The hair
which I once called mine
fell into a drain and was washed away. Later, when I thought that I
was dying, I
scrutinised the self that I thought I was. Everytime I looked I
found a different concept.
Sometimes I was a "monk", sometimes I was a "lonely boy",
sometimes I
was "an Australian", at other times I was "frightened"
"brave" "young" "old" "confused" etc. With every
introspection I found yet different images and concepts of myself,
all of which inevitably
would fade into something else. I could not find a stable and
lasting concept that I could
call "I", "mine" and "myself".
A
few years ago I went on (yet another) satipatthana meditation
retreat. The retreat was
scheduled to last for six weeks. Usually on retreats I can
maintain a reasonably stable
and comfortable sitting posture. However, for some reason on this
retreat, no matter how
many cushions I used or how I twisted my body, I could not find a
comfortable position.
For the first two week I wriggled and squirmed (possibly driving
my neighbours crazy) and
then, eventually, decided to surrender to the discomfort. Like
other times before (with my
heart pain) I made "pain" the object of my meditation. This time
though, the
pain was not an obvious reflection of something else n my life but
was distinctly physical
in nature. The pain usually occurred around my knees and feet. At
first I felt great
aversion to the pain and the one hour sitting sessions seemed like
four or five. Slowly,
however, as I tried to remain present centred and aware, my
mindfulness and concentration
sharpened and my attention could focus right into the centre of
the sensations with a
quality of openness. What I found was fascinating. The essential
nature of the pain was
space. Out of the space there were qualities of hardness, heat,
movement and moments of
burning, sharpness, pulling and twisting. All these elements would
arise like miniature
explosions out of the space only to change to something else and
disappear again. Some
explosions were bigger than others but all of them only lasted
moments. If I became
distracted, or mindfulness faded, all the little separate
explosions became diffuse and
connected and the "knee" felt "painful". If, on the other hand, I
could remain focused, the next moment would arise before the last
one had a chance to
hurt. If I could remain mindful and focused there was no "knee"
and no
"pain", only moments of sensations. Only when all the little
momentary fragments
of sensations were put together did it feel painful.
The
"pain" of a "knee" can be compared to the pain of our lives. Our
ignorance allows all the thoughts and feelings related to the past
and the future to be
mixed with delusions about the supposedly solid present in order
to create an illusion of
a self which is miserable. On the other hand, if life can be
experienced moment to moment,
then the potential for dukkha is greatly minimised. Present
centred awareness is way of
seeing clearly the moment to moment nature of life. Present
centred awareness has the
capacity of grasping reality to its maximum (Epstein, 1988) and is
like a solvent which
dissolves the glue (i.e. ignorance) that sticks the self concept
together.
"There
is a story of a man fleeing a tiger. He came to precipice and
catching hold of a wild
vine, swung down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from
above while below another
tiger growled and snapped waiting for him to fall. As he hung
there two mice began to gnaw
away the vine. Just then he saw a big wild strawberry growing
nearby. Reaching out with
his free hand he plucked the strawberry. How sweet it tasted."
(Goldstein,1976, p22)
Because
Buddhist thought emphasises dukkha, Buddhists have been criticised
for being pessimistic.
However, a Buddhist view is neither pessimistic nor optimistic
but, rather, realistic
(Rahula, 1959). The only certain thing about life is that there is
death. It is like we
are always hanging over a cliff from a vine being gnawed by mice.
Yet, life can be sweet
if we are present to taste it. Being present for life is
intrinsically liberating because
it illuminates the emptiness of both self and psychological
distress. As far as I am able
to understand, emptiness does not mean nothingness or
annihilation. On the contrary,
emptiness is full to the brim with experience. "Emptiness is where
you experience
everything in itself and of itself without meaning and judgement"
(Peter Nelson,
personal communication, 1990). Again, if we can do what we do for
the sake of doing it,
then the energy wasted in maintaining a self can be free to
experience life (Moss, 1981).
Satipatthana:
Destabilising or Centring?
Earlier
in this essay it was argued that Western psychotherapies are
directed at self
fortification while spiritual practices are aimed at self
transcendence. Now, it will be
argued that Satipatthana can fulfil both functions. Satipatthana
is both a way of being
and an intensive meditation practice. Wilber (1981) warns that
meditation practices may be
fragmenting and destabilising for those individuals who are still
at the pre and personal
stages because "You have to be somebody before you can be nobody"
(Engler, 1986
cited in Epstein, 1990, p18). If satipatthana unsticks the self
concept, then satipatthana
as a meditation practice may be inappropriate for those whose
problem is some form of
neurotic fragmentation. However, satipatthana is a meditation
practice which incorporates
both stabilising and integrating functions. The "ego", according
to Epstein
(1988) can be understood in both representational and functional
terms. The
representational aspect of the ego constructs a picture of the
self and the world with
multiple mental images. The functional role of the ego, on the
other hand, maintains
psychic equilibrium and facilitates adaptation and growth. The "I"
of the ego
can be found in its representational aspect and this aspect
creates the "I" as
something that is felt to be real and solid. The functional aspect
of the ego, however,
promotes organisation and integration of the diverse elements and
inputs of the life
experience.
While
on a meditation retreat with a Burmese meditation master (Sayadaw U
Pandita, 1988), I
heard him describe sharp mindfulness as having the nature of
penetration and the ability
to 'cover', 'rub' or stick to any object of attention. With
mindfulness one "stays
with" what ever happens as it happens. Thus, mindfulness maintains
a sense of
connection with changing events. It does not destroy the ego, but,
on the contrary,
provides and enhances a stable yet flexible centre from which to
integrate and synthesise
changing experience (Epstein,1988). This ability to integrate
random and incessant change
inherent in events is healing and leads to increasing well-being
(Muzika,1990; Epstein,
1990). Thus, satipatthana facilitates and engenders the functional
aspects of the ego and
those who are mindful appear centred, at ease and "together".
The
representational self or "I", on the other hand, is an illusion
which arises
because we do not scrutinise our experiences closely enough but
instead we examine
ourselves from the viewpoint of a person (Muzika, 1990). If we
practice mindfulness, we
begin to see the space between the kandas and the illusion of the
"self" is
shown for what it is - no-thing. Thus, mindfulness lets ego be ego
(Epstein, 1990).
Mindfulness does not eliminate the ego but rather banishes the
delusion regarding the ego.
"This seemingly solid, concrete, independent, self-instituting I
under its own power
that appears actually does not exist at all" (The Dalai Lama
according to Epstein,
1988, p68). When there is no self, then dukkha has no place to
abide. When there is no
self dukkha does not have an owner. No self no problems!
Conclusion
Dukkha,
is a term that refers to gross suffering as well as the subtle
aspects of
unsatisfactoriness and uncertainty. Dukkha is the reason why
individuals seek freedom. The
path to freedom is a very personal path and I have faith in the
Buddha's teaching because
it has been confirmed by personal experience. Central to this
teaching is the practice of
present centred awareness.
Although
I can not claim to be an expert on satipatthana, I do know that
mindfulness has helped me
cultivate freedom from dukkha. Satipatthana has given me a stable
centre and the
psychological space to help heal a distressed psyche. Satipatthana
has also given me a
means of dealing with inner and interpersonal conflict and
provided an insight into how to
love myself and others. Moreover, mindfulness has been
intrinsically liberating because it
has illuminated the fantasy nature of "my" "self". Satipatthana is
not
an easy exercise. The habits of attachment, aversion and ignorance
are strong. Like most
people I become lost and enchanted with conditioned states and
perpetuate dukkha. Every
now and then, though, I sense a taste of freedom from the wheel of
birth and death. In
those moments I discover that present centred awareness is my
refuge as well as my path.
There
are numerous ways to cultivate present centred awareness. Present
centred awareness can be
an intensive meditation practice and/or a way of life, but
essentially it is the practice
of doing what one does for the value of doing it using 100% of
one's being. Present
centred awareness is one way to freedom of the heart, but in many
ways freedom of the
heart is simply present centred awareness which is being here now
for the experience of
life.
Source:
www.buddhismtoday.com